Did you see her smile in sun-soaked Spain?
feel her fingernails against you like foreign tidal waves?
dark hair and dark skin
did she touch you like static?
and did you feel shocks of electricity
under her gaze?
did you shudder and shake when you were yanked out from underneath it?
And now you are here.
suffocating from lethargy under inferior sunsets.
the beauty of this tiny town too azalea,
not enough passion fruit
passionate and exotic, sweet against
your cheeks
it can’t be easy to forget.
Let me be your distraction
I cannot fix you, I won’t even try.
but let me kiss you, touch my razor skin
feeling not static but burns.
I cannot be her, I won’t even try.
But I can write poetry that will sting you like sea salt
I am not a lighter against beachside
midnight
But I have hundreds of matches waiting
to smolder in your fingers
I am not fluid but fanatic and holding your hands will help me to not tear out my hair.
there’s a glass of cool water by my bed
maybe we can flush this out of us